


At First Sight

by chains_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Boys in Chains, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Bianca<br/>When captured by Oz, Pilot O1 discovers that there are times a man is closer to his enemy than his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

At First Sight

He is breathtaking as he sleeps, for once at peace. I have seen him only a few times; always I am forced to fight him as he pilots Gundam 01. Awake, he is not a boy at peace, with himself or with the world. Even the first time we 'met', when he attacked, I still felt a kind of kinship with him. Even had he not been beautiful on the outside, I grew to know his spirit as a fighter. 

At first sight, I think I loved him. He emerged from his Gundam slowly, and only once did I feel his eyes upon me. 

He was emotionless, both in deed and sound. I hate to think of what the rebels have done to him in order to pervert his gentle soul into a killing machine. Even as he pressed the self-destruct button, something in his eyes begged me to save him. And I could not. 

Then the war began to progress, and I was needed to protect various bases--Heero and I met several times, most memorably for our many duels. When he self-destructed, the sheer force of the blast throwing his slender body through the air like a doll, my heart stopped for a moment. I knew in the deepest reaches of my soul that he was alive. He had to be--my heart demanded no less than that. 

And now? 

Now he has been captured, and Treize, who trusts me as far as he can throw me, is keeping a close watch on my every move, knowing (or guessing) how I feel about the boy. 

Thank God for Noin; Lucrezia decided he was too dangerous to entrust to anyone's care other than mine. Badly injured as he was taken down, he sleeps now, resting his broken mind so he can continue to fight. His chest heaves with the force of his nightmares--I lay a hand on his arm to comfort him and he gives a frightened cry, so much like a wail of grief that I cannot help but gather him into my arms until his shaking subsides. Even then, I am loathe to release him. 

Though I should not, I revel in the feel of his skin, his cheek brushing against my shoulder, making me feel that the length of his naked body is luxuriantly stretched out against mine. He is naked except for a pair of white silk pants which cling to the contours of his body as if trying to tempt me on purpose. 

There is a knock at the door--"Zechs?" 

It's just Noin--I breathe a sigh of relief, and press a button on the bottom of the nightstand to let her in. The oak door swings open, and she steps through. 

By all rights I should love Noin instead of this frail pilot. She is beautiful, kind, and caring, always ethical and honest. Her inner spirit is willful and burns brightly--I can only continue to be her friend, and try to ease my guilt. Every time I see her dark eyes light up as I enter the room, a strange thorn pricks me, and I am torn between lust and love, for I do love Lucrezia--only, I could never lust after her. The entire situation is confusing, compounded by the fact I hold the object of my desires half-naked on a very supportive bed. 

"How is he?" she asks gently, feeling his forehead. "Fever's broken, that's good." Almost shyly she looks up at me, eyes sparkling and the thorn strikes again. "I have his meds--you'll have to wake him and somehow force them down his throat if he refuses to take them. I've dealt with him before--he's stubborn. Almost as stubborn as you are," she adds as an afterthought, and deposits two white pills into my hand. "I'll be by later," she whispers, and leaves the room silently. 

"Heero," I whisper, the name feeling odd to my tongue. He moans a little, throwing one arm over his face. "Heero," I try again. 

"Duo?" he murmurs, disoriented for a moment, then sits up too quickly and winces, falling back into my arms. "Duo? Is that you?" He pauses, then looks at me suspiciously with unseeing eyes, accepting the pills wordlessly. "Why can't I see you?" he whispers. 

"You were flash-blinded when you were captured," I tell him gently. "You should regain your sight soon; your eyes are resting." 

"Who are you?" I wrap my arm around his middle and pull him tightly to me. 

"I'll tell you if you promise you'll let me kiss you," I say softly. He considers this, then sighs a little, resigned. 

"You have to promise to tell," Heero replies firmly, his words a sharp contrast to his fragile appearance. 

"On my honor," I say hoarsely, and slide an arm behind his bare back. He shivers at the contact, and buries his face in my neck. I pause, waiting until Heero gives a sign that he feels ready. 

Then, he lifts his head and peeks at me with one cobalt eye, a child playing hide-and-seek. I know he cannot see beyond the darkness confining him, and it is by pure luck that his eyes have focused directly on me. 

I stroke his face tenderly, and am encouraged when he closes his eyes and bows his head solemnly. Cupping his face with my hands on either side, I gently brush my mouth over his, yearning to take his lips under mine and let my tongue slip past his defenses. 

But I know that he is physically weak, and for a soldier, that is the same as mental weakness. Even if he wanted to, he would not be able to resist falling, not able to push me away if he wasn't ready. Instead, I pull away and feel him slump over, the effects of the drugs kicking in. Cheap. That was cheap. I look down at the Gundam Pilot that sleeps, cradled in my arms, mouth like a little bow. "Sleep well," I say, and slide the sheets over his body up to his waist, tucking them in around the sides. 

And then I curl up in the chair beside his bed and sleep. 

 

It's dark. 

I can hear the soft whirring of a fan somewhere--despite its best efforts, it is still unbearably hot...wherever I am. 

I feel my face heat up as I remember how the stranger had taken a kiss in exchange for... I still don't know his name. I don't know where I am. All I remember is a flash of light, Duo's face on the monitor as he cried out my name in worry. 

Duo. Did you make it out alive? Are you sitting at Quatre's posh mansion, sipping beer and waiting for your orders to come in? Are you happy? 

Or are you lying dead somewhere in one of OZ's labs as they try to figure out what makes us special? Not just anyone can pilot a Gundam. Dozens have died as they slowly begin to understand that. 

I hope you're safe. 

I hope I get to see you again, even though you have no idea how I feel... 

Because I understand now that you could never love me. Who could love a killer? When we make love I reach out to touch your face and touch a stranger. 

If I ever get out of here, I have to tell him. 

It's over. 

 

He's awake. His eyes are wet with unshed tears--does he even know that he's about to cry? If anything, Heero is more attractive when he cries, when he is vulnerable and the walls don't slide up. "Heero," I say gently, and his head turns to me slowly. 

"You never told me your name," he says accusingly. 

"You went to sleep before I could," I say, all too aware that it was convenient that the drugs kicked in when they did. "My name is--" 

"Wait," he rasps, his throat dry. I fumble for the glass tumbler that sits unused by his bed, and pour a little of the water from the pitcher into it. "Do I know you?" 

I swallow hard. "You do," I say quietly, and prop him up against the many pillows that line the headboard. He accepts the water gratefully and sips carefully. His cherry-colored lips caress thte rim of the glass--how I envy that forlorn edge... 

"Then I don't want you to tell me," he says after a few moments. "Where am I?" 

"An OZ facility," I say, and he sputters and coughs into the glass. 

"So you're an OZ official," he finally says, and I can guess what is going through his mind as he sorts through all the enemies he's ever known. 

"You sound like a guy," he half-asks, half-states after a moment. "So you can't be Lady Une or Noin." 

I smirk. "Noin, no. Lady Une...who knows...?" He laughs gently, then stops, unsure. I don't know if he's unused to the sound or feels awkward in the presence of his enemy. Either way, I gently brush his cheek with my thumb, trying to project calm into him. 

He shirks away from the touch, but not before another tremble passes through him. I am pleased that he cannot help but react to my caresses. "Please don't," he says, eyes glassy. I nod and stroke his forehead, lulling him to sleep with soft words. 

Heero's eyes slide shut and I can feel the soothing rise and fall of his body as he dreams. Without warning, almost an hour later, he begins to babble incoherently. Concerned, I lift his eyelids and find his black dominating his cobalt eyes. "Duo? DUO!" he cries, bucking under my hand as he tries to fight an invisible opponent. His voice sounds so desperate, so greedy for the American pilot that for a moment jealousy gnaws at my heart and I wish I could strangle Duo. Then his cries stop and he begins to tremble violently. 

"Noin? Noin, dammit, where are you?" I turn the corner and find a bored-looking guard who immediately vows to find Noin for me. 

I return to find Heero shaking and weeping tremulously. Instantly, I find myself by the Japanese pilot and try to comfort him as best as I can. He gasps as I stroke his back, the velvety skin tense as I try to alleviate his fears. 

"I'm here," I whisper, over and over until at last he collapses into a shaking, weeping ball on the bed. I can only rub his shoulders and pray that Noin comes quickly. 

She does, arriving in an almost sheer nightgown, looking like a dark angel. She immediately bends down to face Heero, stroking his cheek and murmuring nonsensical syllables that seem to calm him down. He slowly begins to uncurl, and lies on his stomach, eyes closed. 

"What was that?" I ask, wiping sweat from my forehead with a white handkerchief. She forces a grim smile as she examines his pupils, and upon finding them completely dilated, sighs. 

"Anxiety attack, combined with a bad nightmare. I don't think he'll want to go back to sleep tonight," she says gently, and musses my long blonde hair affectionately. "I can stay with him if you want, Zechs." 

"That's okay," I say, and pat Heero like a pet kitten. "We'll be okay." She rises soundlessly and floats from the room like a ghost, never saying anything with her mouth, but saying everything with her dark eyes which brim with tears. 

"I know who you are," he whispers from the bed, and lifts his head. "I heard her say your name--Noin, that is. Zechs." The word is spat, almost like a curse. 

"Heero--" 

He turns to lay on his side, his hip forming an alluring curve that my hand longs to run over. "Don't say anything," he snaps, and for once, though he is the prisoner and I am the guard, I shut up. "Why did you kiss me?" he demands. "Duo--" 

"Duo makes love to you, and he goes through the motions. But you two are like oil and water," I sigh, and trace the line of his cheekbone, "and one of you will get hurt. I think you know that, too," I say, more gently this time as I see tears pool in the bottoms of his eyes. 

Slowly, as he stares at me, his eyes sharpen, coming into focus. He's regained his sight, and his gaze rakes over me carefully, looking for signs of false intention. Finding none, he settles between my legs, rests his head on my shoulder, and falls asleep. 

I can feel him, starved for attention and love, responding to my touch even in sleep, arching towards my hand. 

And for the first time, I can feel hope blossoming in my heart. 

 

I wake first, and gingerly untangle my limbs from Zech's. He truly is beautiful, I think, before the part of me that still loves Duo slaps the part of me that wants to fall in love with Zechs. In my dreams, Duo haunted me, his heart-shaped face following me everywhere. I awoke to find Zechs' gentle hand touching my face, and a depth of love evident in his eyes that was overwhelming. 

I think... 

I think as long as I'm a prisoner here, I might as well stay a while. I'm not going anywhere soon with a busted rib cage and a collapsed lung. Besides, Duo's probably forgotten all about me. I don't want him to forget about me! 

But I know he doesn't love me. And staying with him feels wrong, anyway. Maybe he's destined to be Wufei's partner...heh. That's even more wrong than... 

Me and Zechs. 

But why is that wrong? It'd just be sleeping with the enemy... 

I laugh out loud, and Zechs stirs before rolling over and going back to sleep. In the process, he throws one long tanned leg over my hip and I can feel something hard pressing into the back of my thighs. The action is so familiar--Duo does the same thing when we sleep in the same bed. Trying my best to ignore it, I try to think about things other than Zechs. Non-arousing things, like Quatre. Quatre is probably the most deceptive of us all--not innocent, just not jaded. More like in constant denial; I don't think he wants to believe that the people in the mobile suits he destroys die, they just...go away. Quatre, and Trowa. Quatre and Trowa and a bowl of whip cream and a cherry... 

Stifling a groan, I shove one of the pillows over my head and try to ignore the fact that Zechs is now moaning and thrusting his hips up. I can't do it. 

I turn around and gently shake Zechs' shoulder. The skin feels soft beneath my callused hand, almost like it would melt if handled too roughly. "Wake up," I whisper in his ear, and he jerks awake, jewelish eyes blinking at me curiously. 

Then his eyes widen and he blushes. As he sits up and yawns, I can see the muscles and tendons flexing throughout his body, and if I stare hard enough, two perfect pink nipples that peak against the white tee-shirt he wears. 

"Sorry," he mumbles, and looks so guilty I want to laugh. Instead, I shrug indifferently and stare at the ceiling as he watches me, trying to get me to meet his eyes. Finally, he takes hold of my chin and turns my head so that I'm forced to stare into the twin oceans that are his eyes. 

"I want to kiss you again," he rasps, and that's all the warning I get before his lips move roughly over mine, taking, bruising my mouth with the force of his kiss. I want to push him away...I don't want him to stop...He moves roughly over me, his hardened length brushing against me. The sensation is like white fire and I let out a little moan. 

 

I hear Heero's noise of distress and pause to kiss him lovingly. He looks at me, a bit puzzled, then asks, "Why'd you stop?" I laugh, and kiss him again, sliding his silk pants off with one hand, and searching out his penis with the other. 

He shivers as my hand brushes over his inner thigh, tracing spiderwebs over the sensitive skin, then moans when my hand closes around his length. As I massage the tip with my thumb, he thrashes beneath, whimpering and crying out my name. 

There was never a sweeter sound in the world--the Japanese pilot, at the height of passion, moaning, "Zechs! Oh, Zechs, don't stop, please don't stop..." until I am drunk on the sound and the feel of his body wracked with sobs of pure pleasure. I bend down and begin sucking on the flared tip of his penis, where a single drop of lubrication sits. I pull my mouth away just long enough to blow a stream of cool air against the head. 

"Zechs," he gasped, "I'm coming." I smile in triumph, and wait for the flood to rush from his slender cock. Instead, he goes completely still, barely breathing, trying to avoid the inevitable. Frustrated, I slip my index finger into his entrance and thrust upwards. Surprised, he comes, a look of startled ecstasy in his eyes. Heero collapses against the bed, his eyes hooded with the aftershocks of orgasm. 

"You look surprised," I tell him, nuzzling his neck with my nose. I want him to come like that all through the night, over and over until my name is the only word his pleasure-flooded brain can come up with. He whimpers, and holds his arms in front of his face as if he thinks I am going to strike him. I take hold of his wrists, taking care not to crush the fragile bird-like bones in his arms, and kiss his hands, tenderly suckling each small digit until I can feel his trembling with the force of his passion. 

"I--didn't--know--it--was--like that," he gasps as I suck on his index finger in an erotic imitation of lovemaking. 

"Like what?" I ask, around his finger. "Haven't you ever come before?" 

He nods, eyes shutting for a moment. "It always hurts," he whispers quietly. "When Duo makes me--" He breaks off, face burning, and looks down. I lean forward and kiss his eyes shut, planting a kiss on each eyelid. 

"Does Duo hit you?" I ask, releasing his finger with an audible "pop". He nods, and I pause, pulling him into my lap for a hug. He melts into the embrace, tucking his head against my heart. 

"He doesn't mean to," Heero babbles, trying to make excuses for his abusive boyfriend, "and it's only when we--" He makes a bland gesture, which I understand means sex, only it's not really, since Duo can't get off without hurting my little elfin lover. "He hits me when I..." Another wavy gesture--he still can't say it, even though he understands that Duo doesn't deserve him. I nod, and kiss his forehead, drinking in the scent of him, a mixture of sweat and the woods and the open, something that smells like freedom and a free spirit. I'm determined to show him what it's like--love without sorrow, pleasure without pain, sex without fear. It's like he's a virgin, and he is, about the pleasurable side of love. "You were a virgin when you first made love?" I ask him, stroking his back with long, careful touches. 

He nods, his brown mop of hair flopping like a rag doll. I can't help chuckling, and he stiffens immediately. "I wasn't laughing at you," I assure him, kissing his nervousness away. He relaxes again, but keeps one blue eye open to watch me cautiously. 

"I want to make love to you," I whisper in his ear, and he nibbles on his lower lip before assenting. His back is to me, and he sits in my lap, my erection pressing into his body. I lay him facedown onto the bed, and begin to kiss his neck, then his shoulders, trailing kisses down his back. He makes little noises of pleasure that stop as I reach the curve of his hot little ass. 

Slowly, so slowly, I dip my tongue into his passage, and find that he tastes like fire and pine and something sweet like purified honey. Gradually, his body relaxes under the assault, and he moans and whimpers as I stroke his inner walls, wetting them, preparing his body for what will follow. 

"Please," he whispers, looking over his shoulder at me, and I am lost, spinning in a pool of blue eyes. I close my eyes and enter in one swift motion, letting my body take over. I hear his strangled cry of fear, then passionate moan as we climb higher and higher to orgasm. I come first as I feel him clench down on me, and my seed explodes inside of him, stroking his prostate and making him come. My vision blurs--there is only Heero and this feeling, this sensation which spreads through my groin like wildfire and makes me cry out from the pain of ultimate pleasure. Beneath me, I can feel my young lover doing the same, arching his back, then collapsing against me. 

"Heero..." I pant, exhausted. He looks at me, then smiles. 

"It felt really nice," he whispers, then slowly rests his head on my chest, listening to my heart beat. His hand finds mine, and our fingers intertwine. I know that it cannot last, though I would give everything to ensure that it does. For now, we lie in silence, our slowing breathing comforting. 

I close my eyes and am about to drift off when I hear him say softly, "I think I love you..." Then I drop off into darkness, carrying that bit of light with me into sleep. 

 

"Why did you want to see me, Treize?" I ask, casually toying with the stem of my glass. He nods towards me, and we toast ourselves to victory. 

"You know why," he says softly, his back to me. He watches the construction of the new Leos, another distraction as he struggles to complete a Gundam that can combat the ones the five young pilots fly. 

"Sir, I--" He stops me, holding up a single gloved hand. 

"Do you love him?" he asks quietly, his eyes sorrowful. I close my eyes and feel my heart tear. If I answer no, I lie, and as an honorable man, I cannot. Yet if I reveal how much he means to me, Treize will probably kill him. 

"I understand. I really do," he says, and turns back to me. "Do you know who Wufei is?" I nod, not seeing where he's going with this line of thinking. 

"I think I love him, but I cannot be with him. So we must settle for stolen kisses and passionate nights, with my Dragon slipping out through the gates before dawn. If anyone understands your dilemma, Zechs, I think it is me." I stare at him, agape. He sees my expression and the corners of his mouth turn up. 

"What would you do, for love?" he asks, his eyes bearing a strange intensity. 

I open my mouth, but he rushes on. 

"Would you kill for it?" he asks quietly. I nod; I can feel bitter tears burning my eyes as I relive the past few months, knowing the source of my pain and being unable to do a thing about it. 

"Would you die for it?" he asks, his voice louder. I can see a fine trembling take his strong form; concerned, I reach out a hand which is batted away. "Would you?" he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"I--" 

"Don't answer yet," he warns. He walks out from behind his desk, and stops in front of me. Placing his hands on my knees, he asks, "Would you betray OZ for love?" 

I can feel myself shaking now, for he has hit upon the question that torments me hour after hour. Being with Heero is heaven; yet I cannot live in heaven while still on earth. 

I open my mouth to answer no when Heero's face rises up from my memory, his mouth open and panting as he came, head thrown back, the long bridge of his throat exposed. 

"Yes," I whisper, and the first tear falls. 

"Louder," Treize says, almost in a trance. 

"YES," I shout, feeling my hands clench into fists. 

"LOUDER!" he cries, and slams his fist into the arm of the chair, splintering the wood. 

"YES!" I scream, and jump to my feet. Before I know it, I'm shaking Treize violently. "YES! I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM!" I wail, and fall to my knees, sobbing, cursing Treize. 

"Would you end a war for love?" he finally asks, and my head shoots up. 

The real question. I can see what he is asking me now, and I can see that either choice will kill. But forced to choose between nameless denizens of OZ and Treize, I will choose Treize anyday.

"If you love him, you must go to him. End the war, blow up mountains, anything to reach him. Strengthen your will and be happy, Treize. God knows we have such little happiness in our lifetime," I blurt out, unthinking. He looks at me appraisingly, as if seeing me for the first time. 

"Please leave me now," he says softly, "I have much to think about." I nod, and depart his office. I can hear glass breaking, hurled against the door after I left, most likely. 

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM! 

Sighing, I let myself into Heero's room. My small lover is sitting naked on the bed, eyes shut tightly. "Heero," I murmur, and take the Gundam pilot into my arms, letting them be a barrier between a hostile world and his fragile psyche. He kisses my tears away and offers his body to me again, his actions so brutally honest and beautiful that I can only watch helplessly, detached from my mind, as he skillfully undresses me, hands sliding over my hips and taking my pants with them. 

When he goes down on me, I give in and let my troubles disappear, let him make me forget about the outside world and concentrate on the here, the now, and us. 

I lay panting after orgasm, watching Heero as he chews the sperm, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It changes texture if you chew it," he explains, and spits it out into his hand, a small solid ball that he easily tosses into the silver bucket beside the bed. 

"I love you," he whispers as we cuddle afterwards. I look deeply into his eyes, and he stares back, eyes frightened but determined. 

"I love you too," I reply, and for a time, we sleep. 

Treize surrendered six hours later. 

 

"It's over," Duo said, stunned by the blinking message that popped up on his screen: 

 

Duo,  
It's me, Heero. The war is over--Treize is calling off his troops, ordering the ground troops to retreat. The mobile suit factories are shutting down one by one. It's over.   
You know, I was always frightened at the thought of the end of the war. Like it or not, we are war children, and we are soldiers, born and bred. But I'm not so frightened anymore, Duo. And I hope you have a good life from here, because I won't be coming around anymore. You're a good person, underneath the hate and the programming. Please get help, Duo. Quatre and Trowa will help you through it if only you'd ask.   
I'm sorry.

\----Heero 

Duo stared at the e-mail, uncomprehending. He reread the message four times, and still its meaning eluded him. "Have a good life...?" 

You've been dumped, stupid, Duo told himself, tears pricking his eyes. You love him and you were too stupid to tell him. And now you've lost him. 

Duo laid down on his bed and pulled out the gun that Heero always kept hidden under his pillow. He put the barrel in his mouth and closed his eyes, his finger hot on the trigger. 

But he couldn't do it. Damn Heero, but he just couldn't go through with it. Outside, the rain, which had been steadily falling for days, began to let up and the slightest hint of a rainbow was beginning at the edges of the clouds. 

 

Heero's fingers were shaking as he typed out the message to his former lover. Behind him, Zechs gently massaged his back, tense with sadness. 

"I tried to help him, but I couldn't. I couldn't help him," Heero repeated, eyes wide. Sighing, Zechs turned the monitor off; the Japanese pilot didn't even blink. With one arm around his knees, he carried Heero over to the bed, and kissed him goodnight. He understood, somehow, that Heero needed to be alone. 

As soon as the doors clicked shut, Heero let out all of the anguish and guilt he felt deep inside. Choking back a sob, Heero let himself cry over Duo Maxwell one last time. 

 

The End


End file.
